Crest Armors Remix
by Mathais
Summary: Unveiled by their resolve, the Chosen Children fight in the Crest Armors, discovering their true selves within.
1. End and Beginning: Part 1

Story Title: Crest Armors Remix

Chapter Title: End and Beginning: Part 1

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: Digimon Adventure/02

Warnings: None

Pairings: None

Summary: Unveiled by their resolve, the Chosen Children fight in the Crest Armors, discovering their true selves within.

Disclaimer: The characters of the Digimon franchise do not belong to me.

Note: I promised myself that I'd pursue the Crest Armors to its end, but I've begun to _hate_ it, so I want to see what'd happen if I simply started anew.

**OoOoO**

Taichi Yagami, the Chosen Child of Courage, the flame which guided the rest of the Chosen Children in their battles, surveyed the situation with a spark of fear in his heart. Despite recovering from Apocalymon's attack, their initial advantage had somehow faded when Apocalymon proved to be able to regenerate and create claws, though it had some delay. AtlurKabuterimon had taken a grave hit from an Ultimate Stream, and currently Mimi and Lilymon were trying their best defend him and Koushiro from stray Bug Bomb attacks, though the small attack radius of Flow' Cannon did little good against the swarming attack. Whenever necessary, Sora and Garudamon swooped down with a Shadow Wing—an attack which effectively neutralized Plug Bomb whenever used—to aid them, but the fiery bird stood no match for Mugendramon's Mugen Cannon—a technique Apocalymon definitely favored—and she was forced to provide support for Jou and Zudomon, whose slow body couldn't dodge some of the more rapid attacks in time.

WarGreymon and MetalGarurumon were dancing around claws now, which shot at them at increasingly quicker rates. Fortunately, with Takeru, HolyAngemon, Hikari, and Angewomon at his and Yamato's backs, Heaven's Gates and Holy Arrows either deflecting or absorbing the worst of the attacks and leaving only minor blows here and there. The remnants of some deleted claws floated around them, but Taichi could not afford to focus on them. All he could do was lend the flame of his bursting courage to WarGreymon as his digimon swerved left and right to avoid a crisscrossing web of Ultimate Streams.

"Taichi, move!" Yamato cried, fear coloring his voice, as a Mugen Cannon shot from a hidden claw. Ensnared by the trap set up by Ultimate Streams, Taichi cursed and ordered WarGreymon to call a Gaia Force. As the molten energy gathered around them into an orb, Taichi watched the attack grow closer with no little fear. Before the attack was even half-finished, WarGreymon lobbed it at the twin bursts of energy as they grew too close—but to no avail. The weak Gaia Force couldn't stand up to the energy blast, and Taichi cursed.

He was about to have WarGreymon move into the Ultimate Stream array when Yamato's horrified scream caught his attention.

When Taichi looked back at the attack, all he saw were radiant white feathers scattered around him. Two forms flew back from the impact, and Taichi's heart twisted painfully when he caught them. Hikari's body was a mass of burns, and Tailmon was no better.

...they'd done it for him.

Hikari and Angewomon had flown through the trap, forcing themselves past innumerable Ultimate Streams, and took the full brunt of a Mugen Cannon for him.

"WarGreymon!" he shouted into the air, feeling his rage stir. This battle had to end.

"Brave Tornado!"

With the initiation of the rapid-body whirl, whatever Ultimate Streams left were shattered by the sheer force of the technique. And he dove toward his target.

Vamdemon's Night Raid mixed with LadyDevimon's Darkness Wave burned his body, but he could not afford to let it hit the weakened AtlurKabuterimon. As he himself flew back, Taichi wondered if this was what Hikari had felt.

No matter.

He hugged Agumon, Hikari, and even Tailmon close to his body, feeling the weight of battle fall on him.

He didn't want to move.

**OoOoO**

Yamato's eyes burned with cold flame. Hikari and Taichi had been taken out, and his attempts to move toward them had resulted in a Mugen Cannon into which Sora and Garudamon had dived, allowing him to freely gather the two Yagami siblings and their digimon... at the expense of two friends. Jou and Zudomon now stood in front of those weakened and fallen, while Yamato and MetalGarurumon dealt with the Bug Bombs, Grand Gross Freezer and Cocytus Breath having both the strength and range to deal with whatever attacks came their way.

"Yamato, go forward!" shouted Koushiro, the tactical mind of the Chosen Children ever with his eye on the prize. "Mimi, Lilymon, Takeru, HolyAngemon! Support! I want MetalGarurumon to Cocytus Breath Apocalymon's main body, following it with Garuru Tomahawk to shatter!"

"But what about you?" he shouted back.

"Zudomon's got one tough shell!" Jou gave a rare grin as he patted his partner affectionately.

The grin eerily mirrored Zudomon's before he slammed his hammer down in a Hammer Spark to deflect another Mugen Cannon. "I can take a few hits for Koushiro and AtlurKabuterimon! You need to end this! We'll support you when AtlurKabuterimon feels he's ready."

Takeru and HolyAngemon flew toward them, with a serious expression on the Chosen Child of Hope's face. "Onii-chan, we can't stop."

Mimi and Lilymon agreed. "Yamato, the battle needs to end."

HolyAngemon dived as another claw shot forward, and he ducked beneath the sharp bulk, slicing upward to sever it at the limb, at which point the claw burst into data. Apocalymon shouted in pain, and the Archangel digimon tonelessly stated, "He's distracted. It's the best time to go forward."

"Mimi, Lilymon," Takeru addressed the pair who represented Purity with eyes unusually solemn, "if something happens, you have to make sure that Onii-chan and MetalGarurumon make it to Apocalymon, all right? They're the only Ultimate we've got now."

"I understand," replied Mimi in a similar tone as the Fairy digimon nodded.

Before Yamato could protest, Takeru and his archangel had already shot forward, a Heaven's Gate in front of them to absorb stray energies. As Takeru and HolyAngemon cleared a path with their holy powers, MetalGarurumon and Yamato rode in behind them, running as fast as the Cyborg digimon's legs would allow them. True to their promise, Mimi and Lilymon were consistently around with Flow' Cannons to ward off what strikes HolyAngemon could not block.

The strain protecting him from harm was all too apparent on their faces, and Yamato cursed his inability to help them. Whenever MetalGarurumon moved to launch an air-clearing Grand Cross Freezer, they were shot a sharp look by one of the other Chosen Children and told in no uncertain terms that he must not waste his energy.

Even when an Ultimate Stream came too close and Takeru had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain as the passing energy left a burn on his arm, Yamato was forced to continue forward. It pained him so much to see how hurt Takeru and HolyAngemon were from having to dive forward to protect them, and it also hurt to see Mimi and Lilymon so fatigued and in the same dire straits as Takeru and HolyAngemon from their attempts.

Thusly, he breathed a sigh of relief when Apocalymon's main body came into view. Takeru, HolyAngemon, Mimi, and Lilymon were already there, avoiding the many claws Apocalymon still sported as they distracted their enemy from the true threat.

Just as he was about to order MetalGarurumon to execute the plan, Mimi and Palmon went flying past him, a twin barrage of Mugen Cannons to blame for their departure. Before he could turn back to look, Takeru shouted sharply, "Do it!"

And ignoring the instincts which screamed at him, he whispered, "Go," and urged his partner into it.

"Cocytus Breath!" called MetalGarurumon before he launched a stream of ice from his mouth. All of the claws froze as Apocalymon's main body was hit by the attack and frozen solid. Yamato grimly remembered how easily Piemon had defeated the attack previous—and how much they'd grown now that he witnessed how deeply his opponent was encased in ice.

"Finish it!" he shouted.

"Garuru Tomahawk!" Yamato hung on for dear life as MetalGarurumon flipped backwards, the compartment on his chest opening up and releasing a large missile. The projectile flew toward the frozen Apocalymon—and impacted.

Apocalymon's torso exploded in a blinding flash, icy shrapnel firing off into the distance.

As Takeru and HolyAngemon, after retrieving Mimi and Palmon, flew up to him, Yamato and MetalGarurumon shared a look. For a brief moment, all was still for him—he could feel the blood rushing in his ears, louder than anything else. The adrenaline running through his veins began to ebb, and there was a slow realization.

It was over.

"Onii-chan!" Takeru shouted across the expanse. "You did it! Apocalymon's gone!" There was a gleeful look on his face, mixed with a heavy dose of relief.

It was the last thing Yamato remembered, the thing he focused on, when he urged MetalGarurumon forward.

The gleeful look turned to horror when the claws began to move, and a storm of Mugen Cannons and Bug Bombs shot toward Takeru and his digimon. Yamato, MetalGarurumon, and even HolyAngemon himself put themselves in the way of the attack.

Yamato felt pain, indescribable pain, and he blacked out.

His only thought was that Takeru was safe.

**OoOoO**

Takeru was in shock. Around him were scattered the bodies of his friends, the family he'd come to depend upon. Though there were all alive, the devastation was almost too much for his young mind to bear. To know that they'd sacrificed their bodies for him dug the wound even deeper.

Crystal blue eyes stared at what remained of Apocalymon, at the claws which continued to move despite the mind's destruction. His fists clenched as he felt the first strands of fear invade him.

_**"We will not be defeated,"**_ came the whispering voice of Apocalymon through his mind. Takeru's eyes alighted in his fright; he backed away instinctively from the chillingly cordial voice. _**"We will not lose. We've been here too long; it is too cold. We need to be free of this solitude."**_

"Through destroying everything?" questioned Takeru, faux-politeness masking his fear.

_**"If we must,"**_ admitted the voice. _**"If that's what it takes to be rid of this pain, then we will destroy everything."**_

"Why?" Takeru forced himself to ask. "Why must it be this way?"

_**"You do not know the chill of loneliness,"**_ answered Apocalymon. _**"You do not understand what we have felt, as we sat here where nothing else existed—solitude in the extreme. And, thus, you will never understand what drives us to be rid of the pain."**_

He felt a deep, foreboding chill enter his body, invading him with its despair. There was nothing he could do; Jou and Koushiro and their digimon were too far away to help. He couldn't call for them. Everyone else was unconscious or otherwise unable to fight. He was... well and truly alone.

He was terrified.

But he tried to stand defiantly with the steel he'd gained through his hardships.

That was why he didn't tremble when Apocalymon's voice whispered, _**"Please do not resist. Let me be free of my insanity. Death Claw,"**_ throughout his mind. He stared at the Devimon's hands reaching out to him, and he was instantly reminded of a long time ago back at File Island, where he cowered against the mountain face when the same hand approached. He'd given into his fear and his despair and awaited his death.

Back then, Patamon—Angemon—had pulled him away.

But here, there was no one...

...no one except himself.

The last remnants of his terror and hopelessness gave way to a burning light where pierced everything else. He grasped onto his hope, his hope for a better future, his hope for the safety of all he held dear—and he pulled and pulled and pulled until raw energy filled him with unlimited strength.

Because, as the Chosen Children had just realized, their Crests lay within them. They _embodied_ their Crest by being who they were, so Hope's power was his power.

And so Takeru cloaked himself in that power, which lay dormant inside of him.

A bright nimbus of energy surrounded him in golden light. Raising his head to stare defiantly at what was left of Apocalymon, he called out, "Then allow my hope to set you free! Armor of Hope!"

The nimbus exploded in light, and Takeru felt his body growing, lengthening, as his muscles bulged and grew and clothes shattered and reformed themselves into a knight's armor. He felt a brief pain as eight angel wings burst out of his back, but he didn't care, lost in the euphoria of energy.

As he grasped the golden staff which hovered in midair, his gloved hands feeling the Crest of Hope engraved in its shaft, he felt—everything. He felt all the hopes of everyone in both worlds, the hopes which rested on the shoulders of the Chosen Children, and they gave him strength, the power to stand tall and fight.

"The Light of Hope," he whispered and then raised his staff. As if by instinct, he charged energy into his weapon and struck.

The approaching claw shattered beneath his attack, spreading a cloud of data in his wake. Looking up, he spread his wings and flew faster than HolyAngemon, dodging right through the incoming Ultimate Streams. He was a mere streak of gold as he headed toward Apocalymon's polyhedron body. Charging his staff with his burning light, he thrust it forward, calling, "Glowing Staff!" and impacted into the space vacated by a destroyed claw. He dug deeper and deeper until he found the very thing he was looking for—the Digicore, which was the very being of all digimon. And then he smashed that too.

For a moment, he felt blessed relief as Apocalymon's aura winked out of existence. Then he shuddered again, knowing that every moment Apocalymon seemed beat—he was anything but.

"Ultimate Stream!"

Drawing energy for another Glowing Staff attack, Takeru raised his staff and slammed it into the beam, deflecting it off its intended course. He responded with several lances of light energy, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the intended target.

MetalSeadramon curled around himself, twisting his way out of the attack.

As Takeru spun around in a circle, he realized that he was in a huge amount of trouble.

Every shard of Apocalymon's Digicore sparkled. Were they supposed to look like glass fragments? He thought they were supposed to vaporize into data. He thought this absently to quell his horror-stricken heart as each fragment of the Digicore turned into another digimon, another fallen being who had made up Apocalymon's whole.

Hundreds of digimon, ranging from Baby to even Ultimate, stared back at him. His throat dried as his heart dropped. There was no way he could fight them all off.

But, as he smiled grimly and they all turned to stare at him, he realized there was only one appropriate response.

Flaring his aura brightly, he dashed into the thick of them.

If he was going down, he would take as many of them as he could.

**OoOoO**

"Faster," Koushiro urged AtlurKabuterimon quietly. They'd already left Zudomon behind, preferring to get to the action as soon as they could. If everything wasn't over yet... It meant that his plan had failed or the other Chosen Children were still fighting.

He didn't want to think of the other alternative.

His heart nearly froze when he came across Yamato and Gabumon, Mimi and Palmon... and Patamon. He grabbed them and desperately began to search for Takeru.

Flashes of light amidst many bodies...

"There!" he shouted, pointing at the mass in front of them.

"Horn Buster! Horn Buster!" As fast as the Insect digimon could charge them up, he unleashed the blasts into the crowd. Sometimes, they did little save for concussive force. Other times, they heavily damaged an enemy. The glowing golden figure was tearing his way through the pack, but one enemy was replaced by two, and there were far too many.

Koushiro gasped as Mugendramon turned, his gaze malevolent. "Mugen Cannon!"

And AtlurKabuterimon tossed him off, taking the hit and reverting back Tentomon. Koushiro scrambled toward his partner, ducking—was that a Fire Blast?—to reach him unscathed. With all his might, he tossed Tentomon back toward the others.

Quelling his fear, he immediately sought to catalogue his enemies.

_"A Tyranomon—no, he took care of it. MetalEtemon... He's strong, but focused strikes should do the trick. Jyureimon? Not much of a fighter, probably a few hits in the back and he's gone. Anomalocarimon'll take a few, but underneath the shell, he's a weakling."_

Koushiro clenched his fists in anger.

Because he knew.

No matter how much he knew, he didn't have the strength to execute it. He didn't have the power to follow through. What use was knowing the weaknesses of his enemies if he couldn't fight? What use was knowledge if he had no way to apply it?

And then he paused.

Knowledge... Didn't pertain to only things, did it?

Knowledge meant to know...

True knowledge.

And suddenly... he _knew_.

Knowledge wasn't only the facts, wasn't only what existed in front of him. Knowledge also meant wisdom, to know about the heart and life and living.

To know what must be done.

Lightning crackled around him as he finally, truly, absolutely recognized the entirety of Knowledge. And so he reached down into the very depths of his being and touched the core of Knowledge. And he pulled at it, flooding his body with raw power. Lightning raced through his veins, burning hot and wild, but he fought and tamed it, tempered it with his knowledge which was beyond intelligence, beyond wisdom, until it was true Knowledge.

"Armor of Knowledge," he whispered and surrounded himself with energy. He felt pain, minuscule to the thrum of power beneath his skin, as his body responded by growing into an adult size, his muscles expanding to accommodate the new growth. He felt red armor appear on his body, so similar to his partner AtlurKabuterimon, right down to the rocket pack on his heavily guarded back which served as his method of flight. "The Lightning of Knowledge."

His fingers curled around the handle of a wicked-looking mace, and he took comfort in the familiar Crest engraved in the hilt. Putting on a burst of power, he called out, "Electric Crush!" and infused his weapon with his lightning energy. He lowered it straight into a WaruMonzaemon's head, knocking him away the golden angel.

He swerved to the angel's back, wincing upon sight of the odd angle at which one of the wings limply hung.

"Takeru, you all right?"

"Is that you, Koushiro?"

Koushiro winced at his fellow Chosen Child's exhausted tone, but he shook his head and merely said, "Yeah."

"There's too many," whispered Takeru. "I thought... Only a couple hundred maybe, but too many, and too many Perfects and Ultimates... I'm not sure if I can make it."

Quite frankly, Koushiro wasn't sure he could either.

"Well then, let's just see how many we can take down."

Through the angelic mask, he thought he could see Takeru give a lop-sided, if tired, grin. "Sure."

"Knowledge's Lightning!"

"Hope's Radiance!"

**OoOoO**

Jou, naturally, was a worrier. Initially, he'd always worried for his own well-being first and foremost, but, over the course of the journey, he'd learned to worry less and less for himself and more and more about others. Others placed their faith in him and his sincerity for that very reason. That was why, looking down at Zudomon, at how damaged he was, Jou knew there was only response.

"I'm sorry," he whispered quietly toward his partner, who looked up at him questioningly.

And then he slammed his fist down at the base of Zudomon's neck, using his position to aim for that one weak point he never had to worry about before.

Zudomon immediately crumpled, Jou slipping of his shoulder as he reverted back to an unconscious Gomamon.

An unconscious Gomamon, but an _alive_ Gomamon.

He set Gomamon down, and then he walked forward.

Because he knew the others needed him. Takeru and Koushiro were fighting, and they needed him.

How did he know?

Because people trusted him; people could have faith in a person such as he, and they could see his sincerity. Such a link allowed him to know when others needed his help, almost instinctively.

But he couldn't let Zudomon fight, not in his current condition.

So he dug deep into him, touching the placid surface of his energy. Initially calm, then able to become a tempest of emotions and the like—that's what his power was. He could see, adapt, help, aid—he linked everyone together by being everywhere with everything.

He was Sincerity in its fullest. He was Sincerity in every bit of his actions, with a strength readily seen.

So, as he neared the all-out battle, he summoned that strength to lend him aid. Because others relied on him, placed their faith in him, and he always, always, returned that faith. They depended on his sincerity to do so.

"Armor of Sincerity," he whispered and drew from the wellspring inside of him. Cool water flowed through his veins, calming him, putting him in his center. His body grew with the power, and he felt hard, strong armor encase him in a defense few could penetrate. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, pounding, forever reminding him of his promises.

Grasping the battle hammer which appeared in mid-air, he called, "The Water of Sincerity," felt the Crest engraved in the hilt, and tossed his weapon in an attack named, "Aquatic Toss!" while coating it in water. It impacted in a WaruMonzaemon's back, and the digimon burst into data—but Jou knew that it was already weakened. When the hammer boomeranged back to him, he was already walking forward—faster than his heavy armor looked to be capable of, but with none of the inherent grace of Takeru's angelic wings or the shockwave bursts of power Koushiro emitted.

But his gait allowed him one thing—strength.

Strength he readily used to beat back the hordes from Koushiro and Takeru, deleting Delumon with the same strike as he knocked back a Garbamon.

Because he would always protect his friends, even if it meant sacrificing his body.

"We're not going to make it, are we?" idly asked Jou as he tossed his hammer again, barely missing another Garbamon, though the return trip knocked it senseless.

Takeru didn't respond; the Child of Hope only gripped his staff harder between tense fingers and deflected another Ultimate Stream, twirling mightily to dispel a fire strike. Koushiro shook his head and slammed his mace into a stray Banana Slip.

Jou grunted as the ChibiKiwimon bombs from a Little Pecker exploded against his back.

It would be tough, but it needed to be done.

**OoOoO**

Hikari was slow to wake. She could feel consciousness tickling at the edges of her senses, but she couldn't quite grasp it. Her body felt alternatively hot and cold, sometimes flooded with warmth one moment and devoid of that very same warmth the next. It was like a flickering light bulb struggling to turn on.

But soon, consciousness solidified, and Hikari was able to pull herself to wakefulness.

Gasping, the Chosen of Light gave a full-bodied shiver and struggled her way out of Taichi's arms. She took one look at Tailmon and gave a worried mutter, but she winced as she felt the burns on her body tighten.

Where were the others?

She looked around her, and she gave a worried murmur when her eyes caught sight of Sora and Piyomon.

But that didn't explain where the other five Chosen Children were. But maybe... Off in the distance, she thought she could feel something poke at her, and it caused her to straighten, even with her battered body.

Teasingly, she reached out with her mind. _**"Hello?"**_

_**"Hikari?"**_ came the half-strangled gasp. _**"Are you awake?"**_

She didn't expect the reply, but she focused her thoughts anyway and sent them out to Takeru. _**"I'm awake. What's going on?"**_

_**"We're losing, badly,"**_ Takeru grunted, seemingly unfazed by the new method of communication. _**"Just... try to stay away, all right? We'll do our best."**_ With that parting note, Takeru refused all other communications.

But Hikari would never follow his last command.

She would do anything for her friends. She trusted them, and they trusted her.

Too often, Hikari knew she was left behind to be protected. She'd always had someone to protect her, save her, keep her from harm. Even in this last battle, she knew Takeru and HolyAngemon were always taking the hits for her and Angewomon.

The first time she'd taken it upon herself to fight had led her to be captured.

The second time landed her unconscious.

But, as they say, _third time's the charm_.

Hikari ran forward toward where she knew the other Chosen Children were. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and she felt energy fill her body. She wanted to be out there, to let her shine encourage them all. She wanted to help, to be in the midst of battle—because that was where her friends were, and that was where she needed to be. She wanted—needed—to be the one who stood by their side as they fought.

"Armor of Light," she called out and the warmth she felt inside exploded around her. Body lengthening and being clothed in white silk which hid the strong armor beneath, she felt the cross helmet cover her face, though she focused on the eight white wings bursting out of her back in a flurry of feathers. Her fingers found the bow, finding the Crest which was engraved in its very structure, and she reached for the quiver at her back. The Crest engraved in each shaft gave her strength as she strung it, pulling back and releasing a glowing bolt of light as she whispered, "The Shine of Light." It pierced a Garbamon in midstrike, and Hikari plowed through the resulting cloud of data, straight into the defensive formation the other three Chosen took.

"Hikari!" shouted Koushiro in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping." She gave a small smile as she strung another arrow, this one shining brightly. Aiming for a pair of Childs, she shouted, "Shining Rain!" and launched the projectile. It multiplied into many more once released, and the enemies were deleted by the onslaught. Just as quickly, however, Adults came, and Jou appeared in front of her to protect her.

She nudged Takeru, who was weakly tossing out shimmering spears of light. "Are you all right?"

Jou spoke for the Child of Hope. "He's been fighting the longest—he's really tired."

Hikari knew what she had to do. The eternal light inside her heart spread throughout her entire body until it coated her in a shining pink aura. Thrusting her hand out, the light surrounded all of her friends as she whispered, "Light's Luminance." As her aura coated each of her friends, their movements sped up, as if energy had been restored to tired limbs.

Taking up her bow again, she notched her arrows and fired them, grimacing when she missed the agile enemies she targeted.

She knew it would continue to be a tough battle, however. Her invigoration abilities were only a stopgap—once she herself could not support her friends, they would fall right after.

But still she continued to generate the light, because, with it, they could still fight.

That was all that mattered in the end.

**OoOoO**

It normally took a while for Taichi to wake. He was a heavy sleeper, and mornings were his bane.

This time, however, Taichi's eyes snapped open as soon as he returned from unconsciousness. He knew that he was in the middle of a battle, and his mind instantly went out toward the others. As the leader he was, he rose.

His first thought was that Hikari was missing.

Agumon and Tailmon were with him, but Hikari was not. His eyes began to scan the vicinity, looking for his missing sibling when he felt something.

Something was majorly wrong.

He thought he could see flashes of light in the distance. Sounds travelled toward him, making him worry, and he nearly gave a gasp when he recognized Hikari's voice shouting something indecipherable.

Desperation fueled his movements. All the weariness and pain of his body melted away as concern for not only his sister but for all of the Chosen Children came to the fore when he recognized Koushiro and Jou's voices as well.

He knew the risks; Agumon was currently unconscious and he had no protection for himself. He knew that doing what he was doing could be foolhardy; he could offer nothing for what was happening and might even make things worse.

But, in the end, what he did know was that he needed to protect his friends—the family of his heart, the family who could only come together through by facing hardships and death together. He knew the risks, knew the dangers. Knew the fear.

He discarded them anyway.

For that was true Courage.

He had learned that lesson, long ago, and it was now creeping up on him once more. Courage was not blindly charging ahead into danger.

That was Foolhardiness.

Courage was assessing the situation, understanding the dangers, _and going forward anyway_.

Because it had to be done.

His conviction lit a bonfire in his heart. It spread along his body, sending fire through his veins and it consumed all of him. He let out a soundless roar as he burned his Courage harder and brighter than he ever had, burned it until its light and fury covered him entirely.

"Armor of Courage!" his voice boomed in the empty space as light morphed into flame and covered his skin. Fire expanded his body, growing it, strengthening it, until he towered over his former form. His fist clenched as armor appeared on his body, orange spikes on his limbs and a silver plate with red X's covering his chest. With hands covered with gauntlets and claws, he grasped the two katana which spiraled out of the flames, taking strength from the Crests engraved. "The Fire of Courage."

On his own power, he sped up until he was at a Shellmon's back, calling, "Flaming Slash!" Fire covered his blades, and when he slashed through the Shellmon, it burst into data fragments.

He caught up to Takeru's back, noting how battered the child (which he was, no matter his form) looked. Takeru was still working, still had his reflexes, because as soon as he got into range, there was a staff heading for his head. He used his superior strength to block the hit, crossing his swords to match the staff. The light lances created in response were matched with bursts of flame, and it was only then that Takeru realized who he was attacking.

"Taichi!" he shouted, horrified as his grip grew limp on his weapon. "I'm—"

"It's all right," Taichi soothed quietly. "I should have known better than to sneak up on your back. Where's everyone else?"

"Sora, Mimi, and Onii-chan are still unconscious. Jou and Koushiro are protecting Hikari." Takeru dived backwards as an Ultimate Stream shot in front of him, a shimmering lance of energy shooting forward and barely missing MetalSeadramon.

"I'm going to help." There was no hesitation in Taichi's voice as he shot forward. "Courage's Fire!" There were no frills to his attack; a concentrated pyre of flames erupted from his hands, numerous Gazimon falling beneath the strike. In their wake, Taichi flew past to Hikari, who had just notched another arrow and pointed it at him.

"Onii-chan!" she gasped, lowering her bow.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, "but Takeru's been fighting the longest and Koushiro's tired too! It's taking all of my energy to keep letting them move."

"Well, I'll protect you." Even as he gripped his weapons tighter, Taichi took stock of the situation. Most of the Babies and Childs had been deleted; there were numerous Adults and Perfects left, though the Ultimates caused the most worry.

Even with the damage done to what had made Apocalymon, there was still more to go.

But Taichi burned his aura brighter, bursts of flame entering the fray as he called on more and more of that fire coursing through his body to the fore.

It had to be done, _and it would get done_.


	2. End and Beginning: Part 2

Story Title: Crest Armors Remix

Chapter Title: End and Beginning: Part 2

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: Digimon Adventure/02

Warnings: None

Pairings: None

Summary: Unveiled by their resolve, the Chosen Children fight in the Crest Armors, discovering their true selves within.

Disclaimer: The characters of the Digimon franchise do not belong to me.

Note: The second part, because I never finished the first.

**OoOoO**

Sora's memories were hazy. What had she been doing? Where was she? Why was there...

Soft feathers beneath her fingers reminded her of where she was. Slowly and painfully, she righted herself, feeling her burned skin tug and stretch. She carefully held Piyomon in her arms, distinctly remembering how they'd dived into a Mugen Cannon to protect... Yamato!

Frantically, she looked around because she realized that, if she woke up alone and still in this twisted space, all was not well. Around her, she saw Agumon and Tailmon, but no one else. Where were Koushiro and AtlurKabuterimon, Jou and Zudomon? For a moment, a brief, terrifying moment, she thought they might be dead, gone and deleted like before.

Sora then smacked herself on the head and told herself to get a grip.

If they were dead, then she'd be dead too. And she knew that Agumon and Tailmon would already be long gone before they'd let anything get to their partners.

And so, leaving Piyomon with the other Digimon, she began to move forward to look for the others. She thought she could see flashes of light in the distance, and it caused her heart to speed up in fear. Where were the others? Were they hurt, in pain?

Suddenly, she stopped, clutching her chest.

She was scared. Scared for them, scared for everything. Scared of her own weakness, of her own fear.

She remembered the chill of the darkness, the way it invaded her body and amplified all her doubts.

But something else overrode that.

She remembered the rest of the Chosen Children. She remembered their kindness, their strength, even when they'd shattered into pieces. She remembered as they glued themselves together, finding their way back to each other through all of the pain and sadness.

They were complete again. A family by bond.

A family who loved each other.

And that realization pushed at the darkness, blowing harder and stronger with each passing moment. Because she knew it, felt it—their love encompassed her completely.

She'd learned that, hadn't she?

Their love bound them together, even as they did stupid things in spite of it and sometimes because of it. It linked them in one giant web until they were one group, one being.

And her love for them all was telling her what she needed to do.

"Armor of Love!" she called out as winds, the very same winds which connected her to her Chosen family, circled her body. Within the swirling typhoon, she felt her body grow and strengthen, giving her unimaginable power. Reddish-brown armor covered her limbs, giving her protection with maneuverability, and feathers stuck out at the joints. As two feathery wings, the same color as her armor but edged with yellow feathers, burst out of her back, Sora didn't even notice the bird mask which covered her face until she blinked. Using her newfound wings to burst forward, she felt the gloves and greaves on her hands and feet form, and she knew without looking that the heart-shaped Crest of Love adorned them. Whispering, "The Wind of Love," she slammed her leg into a Garbamon's head so hard he fell back into his trashcan, which she then kicked with all her strength to a figure she knew was Taichi. Taichi, coating his katana with fire, sliced cleanly through the Perfect Digimon and grinned at her.

"A little late to the party, aren't you?" he quipped as he ducked beneath a Banana Slip.

"Not too late, if that's what you mean," she responded as she socked a Blossomon in the face. Shouting, "Hurricane Straight!" she drove her wind-coated fist so hard that it came out the other side, deleting Blossomon. Dodging an Ultimate Stream, she put herself at Taichi's back. "There's still a bunch of Perfects and... Get down!"

Sora shoved Taichi away as lightning soared over their heads.

"Crap, sorry!" Koushiro called out.

Looking at her fellow Chosen, even as she elbowed a LadyDevimon in the gut, she turned worriedly back to Taichi. "How bad is it?"

Blocking a strike from Anomalocarimon, Taichi's voice was subdued. "Koushiro and Takeru are only still moving because of Hikari's power. Jou's fine though."

"We can do this though," Sora said firmly as she punched LadyDevimon again, dodging around her the Darkness Spear of her left hand to kick her once in the side, another to the face, and one last one to blow her back.

She knew they'd be fine, because they were together.

**OoOoO**

Mimi, contrary to what was expected of her, actually liked getting up in the morning. She loved to see the sunrise, to feel the rays of dawn brush across her face and tease her to the waking world.

Without the bright sun, she was finding it extraordinarily hard to wake. She didn't want to move, just wanted to lay there with Palmon clutched in her grasp.

...Palmon?

With a start, she was on her feet and looking around. She distinctly remembered being blown back by two Mugen Cannons, and...

Did they win?

But if they won... Why was she still alone?

Looking around, she thought she saw something... and then shrieked as cherries flew at her.

"Mimi!" An armored form rained lightning, prematurely detonating the Jyureimon's Cherry Bomb. Coming to a halt in front of her, Koushiro's exhausted voice spoke. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah..." she said without realizing it. Reaching out to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder both to steady him and marvel at the flickering pink glow, not even wincing at the heat. "How about you? Are you...?"

"Fighting Apocalymon's remnants," he gasped out. "Look, I have to get back in there... Find Yamato and Gabumon and stay out of sight, all right?" With those parting words, he activated his rocket pack and burst off, leading Mimi with her hand outstretched.

"But..."

She let her hand fall silently as a streak of lightning grew dimmer and began to zigzag through the space. Mimi knew what she would have done, once upon a time. She'd have done exactly that, fled the battle, run to Yamato, and hide until things were over.

But... She was sick and **tired** of running. She'd made the choice to fight, had gathered the allies to do so, and had **not** backed down.

She cared too much for her friends to do so. She cared too much for the people who were so close to her that they were her brothers and sisters in spirit. She cared so much that it overrode her fear.

"I'm scared," Mimi told herself. "I'm scared because Palmon's not awake. I'm scared Koushiro's so tired. I'm scared because I don't want to get hurt. I'm scared because I don't want anyone else to get hurt." Her voice grew louder with each sentence until it culminated in a shout. "But I don't care about being scared anymore! I just want my friends to be all right!"

And that was it, Mimi realized. That was it—to be true to herself, to be true to all; that was Purity. To see everything, even the flaws in herself, with clarity—and to act as such, that was Purity. To not run and hide from the truth, but to hold it up tall and proud, to face it and begin to change it if it wasn't the truth she wanted it to be.

"Armor of Purity," she whispered, drawing on the energy within her and letting it bloom. Stripping away all which bound her, she felt the lily-themed armor cross her body, protecting her even as she moved free. The seed of magic blossomed across her skin, green gloves and boots appearing over hands and feet, a flower bud, her helmet. Grasping the whip, the teardrop of Purity on its handle, she whispered, "The Blossom of Purity," as she flew forward on her fairy wings to wrap her whip around Piemon's hand, preventing him from throwing his Trump Sword at Jou.

"Purity's Nature!" she called as she brought her other hand up to toss out a handful of seeds. Piemon broke free from her grasp just in time to avoid the thorny vines her attack sprouted, though LadyDevimon wasn't as lucky; Sora punted her into the seeds just as they grew, slicing clean through the Fallen Angel and deleting her.

"You all right, Jou?" she asked as she fluttered around him, noting the fading pink glow around him.

"Better than before," Jou admitted as he caught his breath. "Hikari's almost out of power; Takeru and Koushiro are exhausted."

Mimi looked around. "Most of the Perfects are gone. Just..."

"...the Ultimates," Jou groused as he released a wave of water to ward off the cloth from Piemon's Clown Trick. "But there aren't too many."

"So, how you think this is going to go?" she asked as she snapped a Trump Sword out of the air and pushed Jou away before the follow-up could arrive.

She didn't need his answer... It was evident.

**OoOoO**

Yamato heard the sound of battle long before he was conscious. Sonic booms, miniature explosions, and whistling air went backseat to trying to stay in the comforting haze of sleep, with soft fur beneath his fingers. Moaning lightly, he rubbed his eye as he cracked the other open... and froze.

"Crap," he murmured under his breath as he looked around, Patamon and Gabumon clutched in his arms. He thought...

Yamato nearly screeched and backpedalled when MetalEtemon fired a dark orb of energy in his general direction. Diving to the right, he was on his feet in an instant to move again if necessary, only to see an angelic figure dive down and smack away the next blast with his staff.

Another figure rushed to him. "You all right, Yamato?" An armored face looked down at him, and it took a moment for Yamato to recognize the voice as Jou's.

"Ye-yeah," Yamato managed to stutter out, shaking his head. "What?"

"Apocalymon's remnants," Jou grumbled. "There's only the Ultimates left." Casting an eye over Yamato, he seemed to frown and then said, "Get the rest of the digimon and keep them safe."

He left Yamato standing there, charging forward to back up the angel, who was getting hammered by MetalEtemon.

Yamato knew what he should have done. He should have gone back, run to the rest of the digimon, tried to find what other Chosen Children were still unconscious, and then safely waited out the rest of the battle. He should've kept his head down, out of the way. He should've done what Jou'd asked.

But he wouldn't.

Because, he knew he needed to be out there.

With his friends.

He knew that being friends meant that, sometimes, they'd clash and yell at each other. That they'd hurt and rip open wounds. That bleak truths could be opened.

But that was fine.

Because sometimes cold truths needed to be said, harsh things needed to be done. Being a friend meant helping each other, in spite of the pain doing so would inflict.

Beneath it all, friendship, true friendship, would remain, weathering the storm and coming out ahead. It might crack and splinter, but it would never break as long as no one let it. It might return to a tiny little seed, a mere slither of ice, but it could also grow again, gathering strength with time.

Yamato knew that truth, knew it and lived it. Knew how much his own betrayal had caused, but it _hurt_ because they were friends.

So he took a deep breath, whispered, "Armor of Friendship," and coated himself in that power. Felt the chill of ice through his veins, reminding him of the dark side of Friendship, but there was a strange comfort to it as well. As mechanical blue armor formed on his growing body, he realized that the ice wasn't cold enough to freeze, but rather like shade on a hot day. He encased himself deeper in the protective shell, feeling the jet pack on his back, a sleek machine, form from his power, a wolf's mask covering his eyes. Reaching into the air, he drew out the long nodachi sword, the Crest of Friendship on its handle, and called out, "The Ice of Friendship!"

Diving into MetalSeadramon, he parried the tail before it could smack Taichi in the back.

"Nice to see you here," Taichi called as he darted around Yamato, scoring a couple of nicks in MetalSeadramon's skin.

Yamato grinned fiercely. "You know you're hopeless without me!" he called back as his blade shined blue. "Frozen Slice!" His sword left ice wherever it cut; parts of the Ultimate digimon froze together under his onslaught.

Fresh, he danced back into battle, using his superior speed to get in close to MetalSeadramon.

Things would be all right.

**OoOoO**

With exhausted arms, Takeru slammed his staff against MetalEtemon's head, knocking him senseless. Even without the original personalities, the digimon retained enough intelligence to be a formidable threat in battle. It hadn't mattered as much with the weaker foes, who could be dispatched easily. With the Ultimates however, it was another story altogether.

MetalEtemon took attacks which had felled lesser digimon as if they were nothing. And Takeru didn't have the strength for more.

Thankfully, Jou did, as he threw out his Aquatic Toss again, Takeru pulled some of the last of his strength and charged his staff with energy again. He performed his Glowing Staff technique, smashing his staff into Jou's hammer and infusing it with his power. Jou's weapon glowed with iridescent light, as if the sun shined through water. The attack smashed through MetalEtemon, shattering Chrome Digizoid, one of the strongest metals in the Digital World, and deleting him for good.

Nearly limp with relief, Takeru met Jou's eyes across the field of data. Muscles burning and pushing outright exhaustion, Takeru moved to join him when a voice echoed his mind, sending shivers up his back.

_**"So be it. We cannot find our rest even in death."**_ Darkness curled around the words' edges and left taint in their wake. Takeru froze when he recognized Apocalymon's calm voice, tinged with regret. _**"If we cannot rest in death, then we will destroy everything. Once everything is gone, there will be nothing to bother us."**_

"Don't," whispered Takeru.

_**"Gran Death Big Bang."**_

For a moment, silence. And then all of the sparkling data, all of the little bits and pieces, every shining shred which had been a part of Apocalymon gathered together. Slowly but steadily, it was growing. Pulsating. Waiting to unleash. Takeru felt the energy compress, and his body tensed in reaction to the power he could not only feel but see warping the very fabric of space.

And Takeru knew what Apocalymon was about to do.

The raw fury of hundreds of digimon, all of their energy concentrated into a single spot? It would explode.

Explode with enough power to destroy both worlds.

Breaking his bond with Hikari, he poured his energy into his wings and burst forward. Though his limbs ached and his chest felt tight... He knew what he needed to do. He could see the point, see where the data gathered. Takeru drug up every last bit of piercing light in his body and soul.

He was **Hope**, defiant in the face of despair. Hope was always there if you looked for it. So he called up his hope and created even more energy, pulling it from places he hadn't known existed.

But it still wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to contain the raw energy, to contain the explosion which threatened to annihilate the two worlds. Even when he poured his power into it, even when his armor burned away to leave him covered in yellow light... It just wasn't enough.

He struggled with the pain, with the wildly undulating power. Apocalymon's voice whispered in his head, silky, oily, trying to distract him. It coiled around his mind. It wrapped him in toxic promises. It never left him alone, even as he pulled and pushed, fought until he thought that his veins would burst from the pure light he poured through them.

Until he felt a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder and looked up to see HolyAngemon's face, stern yet kind, smile down at him.

"Together now," he heard HolyAngemon's echoing voice whisper as his aura flared brightly once more.

Takeru looked around, looked at the others and saw them.

Bright lights surrounding the point—the rainbow of colors shining and pulsing with lines connecting all of them. Each line, a pair of friends working together—eight points to enclose it all.

Taichi and WarGreymon's Courage lighting their path.

Yamato and MetalGarurumon's Friendship forming their base.

Sora and Garudamon's Love gathering their hearts.

Mimi and Lilymon's Purity growing their bonds.

Koushiro and AtlurKabuterimon's Knowledge controlling their power.

Jou and Zudomon's Sincerity guiding their efforts.

Hikari and Angewomon's Light supporting their convictions.

And his and HolyAngemon's Hope piercing their futures.

Eight lights, sixteen souls—all that stood between the worlds and utter annihilation.

They would not fail.

And so, with the last of his strength, Takeru _pulled_.

**OoOoO**

Tickling at chin was what woke him. Takeru let out a small, incoherent groan as his eyes began to feed him information once more—in the form of sharp pinpricks of light. He turned over and pulled an arm over his eyes to block out the light but realized it was futile. He then acknowledged the soft fur at his face and, with momentous effort, opened his eyes.

"Patamon," Takeru whispered, finding his voice uncomfortably dry and hoarse. His body... hurt. Ached in places that he never knew he had—more so than those very first days when their endless walking left even the best of them with sore legs at night. But, in the end, he felt safe. Alive. With Patamon in his arms as a comforting warmth.

He sat up with a groan, still cradling Patamon against his chest. Where...?

"Takeru!" came the shout, and Takeru snapped his head around fast enough for his neck to protest. He saw someone nearly fly toward him, and when he blinked, it too him a while to realize that it was Yamato.

Except the body was too tall, too strong for a Yamato, with hair that was longer than it should have been. And the body that hugged him had too much muscle to be Yamato.

But it was him. It definitely was him. He reached around and returned the hug, simply savoring his brother's warm embrace.

"Onii-chan!" Takeru looked up and further confirmed that Yamato looked... older. "How is...?"

"Everyone's fine, squirt." Yamato ran a hand through his hair, and Takeru was suddenly aware of how much longer it was, reaching almost down to his shoulders. "It's you we were worried about! What were you thinking, rushing in alone like that?"

"That I needed to do something, onii-chan." He met Yamato's clear blue eyes with all of the resolve he felt back then. "Apocalymon wouldn't rest, so I had to move."

"Not without us, you dummy." Yamato dragged his knuckles over his head, causing him to squawk indignantly but submitting to the brotherly affection. Shaking himself free, Takeru looked around, finally realizing that he was in the Village of Beginnings.

"How did we...?"

"When you all defeated Apocalymon, the Digital World became able to reformat itself from the corruption the Dark Masters brought." Gennai's aged voice passed over them, and the two brothers turned to one who had helped them so much on their journey. "It started with File Island and is spreading out throughout the entire world."

"Can we help?" Takeru asked, eager to see the world they had fought to protect.

Gennai's gaze held sadness, though they could not see his eyes. "There is something you should know. Though you have protected this world, you are still human. The Digital World, as it reformats, will see you as foreign entities." He turned to the sky, where Takeru could now see black beginning to edge over the sky. "When the eclipse ends, the Digital World might attempt to remove you."

Takeru looked down at Patamon, the words numbing his emotions. He tried to come up with the words but failed.

Yamato's eyes narrowed into a glare. "The Crests and the Crest Armors. Could they...?"

Gennai regretfully shook his head. "When you held back Apocalymon's Gran Death Big Bang, your bodies released a large amount of energy—and the Crests haven't recovered. Neither have _you_ for that matter." At this point, Gennai's face turned stern, sterner than it had ever before. "Do not try to access the Crest Armors; you could cause irreparable damage to your bodies. What you did to stop the attack burned you out badly." Gennai's gaze softened. "I'll tell you if you're needed."

Takeru looked back up. "Thank you."

As Gennai walked off, Yamato looked down at Takeru. "I'm going to..."

"Go," Takeru whispered. As his brother left, Takeru back down on the Village of Beginning's soft ground and waited for Patamon to wake.

They had much to discuss.

**OoOoO**

The mood was subdued as they stood in front of the trolley that would take them home. Battle-scarred and bruised, the Chosen Children barely managed to muster a smile for Andromon as he took a picture of them all for posterity. There was no telling when the Digital World would let them back in, and it was a peace that they'd had to make with their partners.

At least, most of them did.

Koushiro held Mimi as she cried into his shoulder. Palmon hadn't wanted to see Mimi, and the Chosen of Purity couldn't bear to be without her partner. None of the Chosen could figure out how to make things better, but Gennai looked toward the sun.

"I'm sorry, Children, but the eclipse is almost over." Slowly, despondently, they entered the trolley one final time. "But remember this, Chosen. For all you and your partners have done for this world, we will never forget."

The amassed Digimon nodded, waving and cheering their tearful farewells.

"And we will never forget this world... This world that is as much a home as our own." Taichi replied in as strong a voice as he could muster. They boarded the trolley slowly, helping each other move tired limbs.

Even in their triumph, the bitter loss of their partners was almost too much to bear. As the trolley took to the air, they were unwilling to look at each other, much less outside.

But then Mimi's head rose. The rest of the Chosen looked at her as she stepped to the side of the trolley and poked her head out the window.

Mimi began to smile and laugh, even as her friends gathered around her.

"I'm sorry, Mimi! I'm going to miss you! I won't forget about you! Come back soon!"

Palmon's frantically waving arms in the distance as she too was surrounded by the rest of the digimon... It eased her heart.

This was the farewell she was looking for.

Never once taking her eyes off of those fading in the distance, Mimi said, "Guys? I think we did good."

Koushiro smiled at her and said, "Yes."

"We're definitely going to see them again," Takeru spoke.

"We will," Yamato agreed.

"Because we love both of these worlds," Sora began.

"And we're always connected to our partners, through thick and thin," Jou finished.

"This isn't an end." Hikari spread her arms wide with bright eyes.

"This is just the beginning of another adventure!"

Taichi had probably never spoken truer words.

As the portal closed behind them, the eight Chosen Children, a family by bond, smiled at each other.

It wasn't the end of their story.

It was just the beginning of a new chapter.


	3. Tags and Snippets

Story Title: Crest Armors Remix

Chapter Title: Tags and Snippets

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: Digimon Adventure/02

Warnings: None

Pairings: None

Summary: Unveiled by their resolve, the Chosen Children fight in the Crest Armors, discovering their true selves within.

Disclaimer: The characters of the Digimon franchise do not belong to me.

Notes: There's this really big AN at the very end of this chapter.

**OoOoO**

Taichi's eyes glared at Millenniumon, though he himself was immobile. The large digimon, a fusion of Mugendramon and a digimon he didn't recognize, doesn't even take notice of him. He was too busy slavering at the thought of facing Ryo to care.

Millenniumon was powerful. Extremely powerful. He wasn't sure how powerful compared to Apocalymon, but he was pretty damn powerful.

Powerful enough to rend time and space to capture him, his fellow Chosen Children, and their partners. His heart felt for Agumon, the only one to escape. He hoped that he made it away. Even though with him so far away he couldn't send any power, Agumon could do something, anything.

Even if their opponent was an Ultimate, as he suspected.

A part of Taichi was angry that he had been captured in the first place. After all, hadn't they all been training for just this very occasion? Hadn't they, after getting a taste for battle and that jumpstart in skill, constantly practiced with each other so that something like this wouldn't happen?

Unwittingly, a spark of Courage lit in his heart, that comforting, no nonsense blaze which served him so well. But pain lanced along his body with it, and he remembered why Gennai had warned them away from their powers so long ago.

In sealing away Apocalymon's final attack, they channeled more power than they were used to and without the buffer of the digivice. The power left their mark in their changed height and age and muscle mass, in the visceral knowledge of their Crest and their maturity in outlook. But for all they gained, they burned out their bodies, and until they healed, they wouldn't be able to attain that same strength. Even trying left them hurt and weak.

It was the only reason why he wasn't wreaking havoc with fire right now.

Eyes burning, all Taichi could do was glare at Millenniumon.

He hated being so useless.

**OoOoO**

"You're so stupid, stupid," is what Yamato woke to at the end of it all.

When he finally regained consciousness, safe in their grandparent's home, Takeru was beating on his chest.

It kind of hurt actually. Takeru was a lot stronger than he seemed.

Though his body felt as if someone shot ice through his veins, he managed to shift so that he was looking up into Takeru's tear-filled eyes.

"Stupid, stupid, onii-chan," Takeru cried. "How could you do that?"

Yamato reached up and pet Takeru's hair. Takeru's tears stilled at the pressure, and Yamato smiled. "Takeru, I was just doing what was necessary."

"We're not healed yet," his little brother's breath hitched in the middle of his words. "We're not healed yet, and you used your Crest to get to the internet. I saw it! I felt it!"

Yeah, that may have been pretty stupid, but it was necessary at the time. MetalGarurumon _needed_ him, and if it meant that his body was bathed in pain from the effort, then he took comfort in the fact that Taichi did it too.

"It needed to be done, little bro," Yamato said roughly. "Is this any different from when you went against Apocalymon?"

There was a small part of him that warred about Takeru's actions. Granted, Takeru had been alone, so there was a huge part of him that was proud of his little bro for going up against the odds and doing what he could.

Another part of him had been scared, always scared, of being left behind.

Takeru stilled, and for a moment, Yamato regretted his words.

Then Takeru said, "No," with eyes older than they should have been, and Yamato did regret putting that look in Takeru's eyes. It was far too old for someone whose age was still in single digits.

"Come here," Yamato whispered and dragged Takeru to him.

**OoOoO**

If she had been weaker, Hikari would have been far more worried and scared than she was now, in the grips of the Dark Ocean.

But she was not. She was the Chosen of Light, wielder of the Crest of Armor of Light, and she hadn't spent the three intervening years resting on her laurels.

Her Light was strong. It had to be, to do what she needed to do, and she had the force of will which let her claw back from unconsciousness and control herself.

Her body still wasn't though. It was nowhere near ready to channel the same fury she had against Apocalymon.

There was enough to do something though.

Her powers didn't have the same piercing effect as Takeru. Most of her spells were of an augmentative nature. But when those Hangyomon grabbed her, when she freed them from their bonds only to have their true nature be revealed, she lit up.

Light, unwavering light, poured forth and paralyzed the darkness. It was nowhere near as good as Angewomon's Saint Air, but these things were not on Vamdemon's level. She rose, even with the pain singing in her body, and said clearly, "I am the Light. I will not be shackled down by the darkness. If you think you can bind me to your will, then think again."

The Dark Ocean rose to greet her, singing its mournful song of corruption. And that's what the Dark Ocean was—corrupted darkness, not the counterpart to natural light but something twisted for evil.

Though it made her heart burn, Hikari gathered her strength to fight. She began to whisper, "Armor of—" when light pierced through the darkened sky. Pegasmon galloped as hope across the heavens, Takeru riding on his back.

Tailmon leapt from her perch, shouting, "Hikari!"

They'd given up their power before. To heal the Digital World, to protect the world they loved, they'd drained themselves to the barest minimum once more. It took with them the strength for Perfect and Ultimate, and it very nearly knocked them out once more.

But they embodied their Crest, and the power would always be there, if they sought it. Hikari had proved it just now.

And in this darkened world, when corruption bred tainted darkness, light was needed more than ever.

So Hikari took that power which thrummed through her, that power which she used to protect, and fed it to Tailmon.

"Tailmon, super evolve! Angewomon!"

The eight-winged Archangel soared into the sky, her holy presence beating back the corruption. Angewomon's hands spread as she called out, "Heaven's Charm!" and dropped a cross of light in the air. The darkness was burned away by the pink radiance as Pegasmon and Takeru swooped down and picked her up.

"Just in time," Hikari giggled.

"You were about to call your Armor," Takeru accused.

"I didn't."

"But you were about to."

Hikari didn't deny it; she only arched an eyebrow. "And how did you pierce the walls between the worlds?" she asked.

Takeru didn't respond, though the red flush shooting up the back of his neck said enough.

As Angewomon covered their escape, return to Tailmon once safely out of that world, Hikari looked back.

Looked back and made a promise to herself. When she was stronger, when she could access the Armor without burning her body out, she would return. She would return and purify the corruption and leave the darkness, pure, untainted darkness, to its inhabitants.

**OoOoO**

It was a secret that only the highest echelons of the Chosen (and they were the Chosen now, because it was kind of stupid to call them the Chosen Children when they were all adults) knew in its entirety, though rumors, as they often did, flittered throughout the ranks.

The subset of the Chosen known as the Crest Chosen was special. They were the ones who defeated the Dark Masters before most of them had even known of the Digital World (the originals notwithstanding, but whoever the original five were, they held their peace), had been at the forefront of the battle against BelialVamdemon, and even though everyone had helped out against that threat, the only reason that BelialVamdemon had been in any position to be defeated was because of them. The Crest Chosen had been the only ones to achieve Perfect for a good long while, and they still were the only ones who had Ultimate partners.

They became legendary when they mounted the strike force that took down the only confirmed Super Ultimate digimon in existence, when Demon, who had plagued them for so long, teamed up with the Master of the Dark Ocean and raided their worlds. It only ended in a large-scaled battle against Demon, who had surpassed Ultimate into another level altogether. They were the heroes who headed deep into the darkness and purified its evil, leaving all of those who lived in the shadows free to exist there in peace.

It was true that they had had help, but no one denied that they did the bulk of the fighting. They and their partners were the strongest forces in the Chosen.

The thirteen of them were absolute legends. No one had trumped their accomplishments, many and varied as they were.

But only the top Chosen, the ones the most trusted, knew the truth.

Normally Chosen worked with their partners closely. Close enough to give power and tactics, but still out of the battle zone, almost never directly engaging.

The Crest Chosen, on the other hand, rode into battle directly.

When they mounted the battle against Demon, they didn't do so from the sidelines. They directly fought as well, clad in the armor which represented the Crests they so embodied—the Crest Armors. The Chosen themselves were every bit as powerful as their partners, and so it wasn't fourteen fighters who swarmed Daemon and his guard (because one of the Crest Chosen had the miracle of twins) but twenty seven. Twenty seven of the strongest fighters that the Chosen had ever known.

Their accomplishments, detailed in a locked file, had won the war. Because they could fight alongside their partners, because they weren't a liability in battle, the digimon could fight that much harder, work that much in tandem.

And so, even if the world didn't know the true extent of their strength, their names would go down in story, in legend, in myth.

Taichi Yagami and WarGreymon, the Fire of Courage.

Yamato Ishida and MetalGarurumon, the Ice of Friendship.

Sora Takenouchi and Hououmon, the Wind of Love.

Koushiro Izumi and HerakleKabuterimon, the Lightning of Knowledge.

Mimi Tachikawa and Rosemon, the Blossom of Purity.

Jou Kido and Plesiomon, the Water of Sincerity.

Takeru Takaishi and Seraphimon, the Light of Hope.

Hikari Yagami and Holydramon, the Shine of Light.

Daisuke Motomiya and Imperialdramon, the Friendly Courage.

Miyako Inoue and Valkyrimon, the Pure Love.

Iori Hida and Vikemon, the Sincere Knowledge.

Ken Ichijouji and GranKuwagamon, the Shadows of Kindness.

Wallace Glouberman, SaintGargomon, and Cherubimon, the Miraculous Fate.

Twenty seven of the strongest they had to offer.

They were the Crest Chosen.

**OoOoO**

Author's Note:

...and that's it. I apologize for anyone who has truly been waiting for this story, but I've come to a realization.

It's been a decade since I started this story. It's been a full ten years.

I've been on this site, writing fanfiction, for ten years.

I don't want this story to end, but I don't have a storyline. I don't have a plot.

When I look back on this story, I can see all my mistakes. But I can see a marked growth in my writing too.

So, this is it. After ten years, I'm laying this story to rest. It's not going to be actively updated anymore. I might come back to it, with more tags and snippets, but for all intents and purposes, this story is complete. It won't be the same long, chaptered story. It's not in me anymore.

I'm sending it off with these tags, these snippets, and with this ending, because this story will always be in my heart. It's the first storyline I ever wrote for this site, and I think it might be the older surviving fanfiction I've ever written.

For all of you readers who've stuck with me on this long journey, thank you. Thank you so much.


End file.
